


Heirlooms

by FanWriter



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19812841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanWriter/pseuds/FanWriter
Summary: Jack gifts Nadia with some heirlooms. (Not a very original summary but the best I can come up with right now.)





	Heirlooms

Jack stood uncertainly on the stoop of his daughters' house, a cardboard box in his hands. He started forward with a raised fist, poised to knock, before reconsidering; finally lowering the box to the deck's welcome mat and turning away to go back to his car.

''Jack?''

He turned, gravel grating beneath the twist of his heel, seeing Nadia standing at the open door.

''What are you doing here?'' she asked, noticing the box and picking it up. Thinking it something for her sister, she said, ''Sydney's not here - I'll tell her you dropped it off.''

They both knew that Sydney was currently in Prague, wouldn't be back for another three days; he'd been the one to send her there. He swallowed the constriction in his throat as he replied, ''It's not for Sydney. It's for you. Heirlooms,'' he trailed off. ''I thought you might like them.''

He saw her look down at the box, her hold on it shifting as if she were holding something precious. It'd been close to a month since finding her real parentage, and in that month he'd been just as confused as to what to do with her as he was Sydney; he'd forced a gap between himself and his eldest (out of necessity, mind) and with the revelation of a daughter he hadn't known he had the gap was there all on its own. It's not that he didn't want to be an involved father, but after so long of not being there it was quite a difficult adjustment on how to be there now.

He saw Nadia's eyes brighten before they dimmed; she smiled at him nonetheless. ''You should probably give these to Sydney.''

He knew what she was thinking but she was wrong, she was just as much his daughter as her sister was. ''I've already passed on some things to Sydney, when she graduated. I was just going through my storage unit the other day clearing out some things,'' a lie; he had a specific purpose to go through that unit, ''and I just thought you might want them.

A quiet hung between them, a holding of breath before he turned again.

''Jack - Dad ... wait. Can you stay awhile? Tell me about what's in here.''

He took a slow breath and gave a nodded jerk of his head, following her inside.

ALIAS-ALIAS-ALIAS-ALIAS-ALIAS

Jack sat catty cornered at one end of the couch, Nadia at the other end; he sipped on a cup of tea while hers lay forgotten on the coffee table while she poured over the contents of the box. He watched the awed pleasure on her face as she brought out each item, holding it reverently as he gave a brief history on each item.

''That belonged to my grandfather - my mother's father,'' he said as she opened a square, blue velvet jewelry box the size of her palm. Inside lay his grandfather's service medals and a crudely made cross made out of melted bullet casings. ''He made it during the war while on deployment. Always said it brought him luck. Must have been something to it, cause he came home three times. It's not worth anything, but I thought ... in lieu of the St. Marcos pendant,'' he trailed off, thinking of the necklace still in APO's possession that 'Sophia' had given to her.

She lifted the necklace out of the box before setting it down amongst the assortment of other items on the cushion, taking the necklace in her hands and unknotting the thin cord and retied it around her neck, it coming to rest against her sternum. She toyed with it, running her finger over the edges before looking back in the box and pulling out a carefully folded creme cardigan.

''My mother's. She only wore it on special occasions; Christmas, my graduation.'' He stared at the delicate cardigan in Nadia's hands. ''My father was always going away - work,'' he said and he grimaced at the same excuse he'd used so often with Sydney. ''One day, as an apology for being away so long - again, he told my mother that he'd bought her a cardigan, at this fancy little boutique uptown. He'd paid the shop keeper earlier and told him that his wife was to come by to pick out which color she wanted. Now, red was her favorite color - even painted the kitchen red, but we didn't have much money wise and she knew white would work better with the few dressier clothes she had. That said, there was the 'no wearing white after Labor Day' rule and, of course, she couldn't wear it to a wedding, so she went for an off-white.'' He paused, awashed in memories long past. He may hadn't cared much for his own father but he loved his mother more than anything.

Feeling Nadia's undivided gaze on him now, with eyes so much like his mother's, he lifted the mug of tea and took a fortifying gulp. ''I still have her wedding dress,'' he said, thinking to the hope chest still in the storage unit that his mother had steadily saved up fabric in to make her own dress. ''When you ... you know,'' he tried, ''should the day ever arise ... it's there ... if you want to wear it.''

Her face lit up, smile stretching the apples of her cheeks up high. She carefully placed the cardigan down between them on the couch and curled her legs beneath her. ''Tell me about it,'' she said, and just like that they were off on another trip down memory lane.


End file.
